Superboy: Tall Tales
by S-Shield
Summary: A young Clark Kent discusses his life and reflects on the moment he discovered his true identity. Updated with a third chapter.
1. Birthday Gift

Birthday Gift

A wise man once said that there are as many different worlds as there are people in this one.

I guess that's suppose to mean that no two people see the world the same way, that everyone has their own interpretation of this world. That explains why sometimes, when dealing with another person, it can feel like you're talking to someone who was born on another planet.

It's comforting to know that even people from the same planet can feel this way. For the longest time, I thought it was just me.

My name is Clark Kent, by the way. I'm 13 years old. I live in Smallville, U.S.A. And I actually _was_ born on another planet.

I think my planet's name was Krypton. I say "think" because I'm not totally sure. It sounded like "Krypton" in the message my real dad sent me.

Let me start over.

I'm adopted.

I've always known that I was adopted. And that's because, despite the fact that I was only a toddler when my adoptive parents took me in, I remember it like it was yesterday.

I remember every day of my life like it was yesterday.

That's because I have what I call "Super Memory." It's one of my abilities, of which I have several. Most of them begin with "Super."

That wasn't intentional. I'm not really that vain. But I do have several… I prefer the term "abilities," that I've been forced to use on occasion to help people. People caught in burning barns. People who lose control of their cars and drive into trees and/or power lines. People in trouble.

I use my abilities to help people. I try to do it secretly, and not cause a fuss. But sometimes I'm seen. Sometimes people actually remember being lifted out of a car at "Super Speed" by a flying boy. At first, it was easy for other people to dismiss these claims as trauma-induced. "How hard did you hit your head, sir?" But after a while, the reports started to add up. People started comparing stories and sightings. People started asking questions.

Reporters. These people are paid to ask questions. After a while, legitimate newspapers started running stories about "The Mid-Western Super-Boy."

Just not on the front page.

Most people still just laugh it off, especially city folks. "Those hicks from Smallville saw what?" Super-Boy is just an urban legend to them, like Bigfoot or UFOs.

And that's fine by me. I don't want the attention. That's why I don't wear a flashy suit, or a sign on my chest or anything. I like to keep a low profile.

But anyway, the point I was trying to make was that the name "Super-Boy" wasn't my idea, and that referring to my abilities sometimes as "Super Powers" is more of a reflex.

Now where was I? Oh, yeah. Super Memory, that's right.

I use the term Super Memory to refer to my ability to remember and account for every single moment of my waking life.

What were you doing at 10 a.m., November 10 of the year you turned seven? Can't remember? Well I can, in vivid detail. I remember what I was wearing, what my Ma was cooking for breakfast, what toy I was playing with. I could go on.

There is only one problem with my Super Memory. It doesn't go back far enough. If I retrace my steps all the way back to the beginning of my memory, the furthest thing back I can remember is my parents, Jonathan and Martha Kent, lifting me out of my rocket ship and into the sunlight.

Not that I knew what a rocket ship was at the time.

So while I always remembered the day my parents found me, it was some time before I realized that the "basket" they found me in wasn't typical.

But that is as far back as my memory goes. Everything before that is a jumbled hazy. The one area where I'm like everyone else is that I don't remember the first year of my life.

What I wouldn't give to remember.

See, even though I've always known that I was "special," it wasn't until recently that I found out just how special I might just be.

Like I said, I've always had a good memory. Better than anyone else's. I'm also faster than anybody. And stronger, and tougher. I don't mean that like I'm a tough-guy or anything. I just mean tough like sturdy, hard to knock down. I don't break.

At first, it was fun. What kid doesn't want to be the best at everything? And who needs cable TV when you've got Telescopic/X-ray/Heat Vision to entertain you.

I can fly.

My parents always warned me to keep my abilities a secret. They were afraid someone from the Government would try to take me away. I'm their only child.

But when I was a kid, we treated it like a game. Hide and Go Seek, or something. Keep your powers a secret. "I know something you don't know!" Lots of fun.

But now I'm 13. And keeping secrets is starting to be not-so-fun. Now all the boys are going out for sports and stuff. I'm 13, and I could be on the High School Football Team if I wanted. I could _beat_ the High School Football team by myself, if I wanted. But I can't. I'm the best at everything, and I can't show anybody.

Not only that, not only do I not get to be my best, I can't even try because I might hurt someone. Whenever I'm asked to play a game or anything, I have to decline, without any good reason.

I've got Super Hearing, too.

Everybody calls me a chicken.

Even the girls.

Add to that a super memory that lets you relive every insult, and it becomes pretty easy to feel alone in this world.

I guess that's why I became more interested in where I came from. And why I was here.

Ever since I saw a rocket ship on an old cartoon show, I recognized the method by which I came into this world. But it wasn't until I finally got my real father's message that I realized I was an alien.

I know, that should have been my first guess, right? Rocket ship equals Alien, duh. But I just looked so human. And it's not the 1950's anymore. Most people get that aliens aren't supposed to look just like humans in silver jumpsuits.

At first, Ma and Pa thought I was an NASA science experiment. Some new way of testing the effects of space travel on humans. Maybe I was so strong because I was genetically engineered to be an astronaut? Or maybe I was mutated by cosmic radiation? But what ever the case, my parents were sure I at least started out as a human.

But after I became old enough to look at my ship, which Pa keeps in the storm cellar, it became pretty clear that the ship I arrived in contained technology way beyond even the most ardent Black-Ops conspiracy theorist's wildest dreams.

I then entertained the idea, for a short time, that maybe I was from Earth's distant future. And my enhanced abilities were simply the result of natural human evolution in a million years' time.

But then I remembered I could fly and shoot fire from my eyes. Hard to term anything like that as "human."

But then who was I? Was I unique in the universe, or do I have a people all my own. Maybe my family was even out there, somewhere, looking for me. I mean, somebody had to build my ship, right?

I had too many questions.

Besides me, the only other contents of my ship were several large blankets and two pieces of technology not actually attached to anything else. One was a device about the size of your palm, egg shaped, with a small crystal display like the face of a watch. The other was larger, flat and square shaped, about 8 inches wide and tall. It appeared to be nothing more than a small, flat, TV screen.

I couldn't get either to work.

I tried them separately. I tried using them together, inside the ship, far away from the ship. Nothing.

I had just about given up hope of ever getting either to function properly.

But one day, curiously enough, roughly 12 years since my landing on Earth, I awoke to find the Egg sitting on my night stand, a little red light blinking on and off at me, as if to say "You've got mail."

I sat for a few minutes and pondered my options. A life-time of body-crushing strength and closely-guarded secrets has led me to be fairly cautious. I always think things through, which is usually a speedy task. Again, super brain.

But this required some thought. Why was the Egg blinking now? Did it have something to do with the date? I'd landed on Earth 12 years ago, but this wasn't that anniversary, that wasn't for months. We called that date my Birthday.

But it wasn't. Not really.

No, it finally struck me that perhaps today was my birthday! My real birthday! This must be my 13th birthday!

The Egg must have been programmed to do its job on my 13th birthday. That fact made me feel very close to my real origin just then. 13 years old is a milestone on Earth. It must be the same wherever I was from.

I held the Egg in my hand, turning it over and over, searching for any way to activate it. Slowly, I noticed that it was getting warmer. Pulsing, in fact. Almost like a heart beat. Like my heart beat!

This Egg was moving into synch with my own body!

There was a flash of light, and suddenly I was in a strange place.

It looked like a laboratory of some sorts. Wires and machines everywhere. Along the wall were some stairs, that lead up to a raised enclosure.

There I recognized my ship.

A man's voice made me turn around.

What I saw thrills me even to this day.

I saw a very tall man, with dark hair and piercing eyes. I almost couldn't tell their color, his stare was so fixed he practically squinted. But they were a cold blue-gray. The color of steel. He wore a strange outfit, at once bizarre and familiar. What struck me most about him, though, was his jaw. It was a perfect square, just like mine. Ma always said I'd grow into my jaw, and here before me was proof that I would. I knew it the moment I saw him. This man was my father.

I will never be able to express the joy I felt at seeing him for the first time. It was an experience paralleled only by my shock and disappointment at the realization that I couldn't understand a single word he was saying.

As he talked, he gestured to me, and then to himself. And then he pointed my attention to the woman standing beside him. The woman was tall, regal, and dark haired like my father and me. But her eyes were different than his. Whereas his eyes were firm and determined, hers were open, and overflowed with love and warmth. Her eyes were blue, like the skies of my adopted world. I knew now that Earth was not my home. For this place, and these people, could not exist nor ever have existed on Earth.

But why had I not seen either of them until they were presented to me? I then realized something that I had only been half aware of up until now, that this was just a recording. The actions and motions of the camera had already been predetermined, long ago.

While my father was speaking, I became aware of what I can only describe as "subtitles" appearing under and in and around my sight. Like a stock ticker, a constant stream of alien symbols coursed through my sight. They appeared to be in synch with my father's words, as different groupings of symbols would light up with each word spoken.

I knew that this vision couldn't last forever, and I didn't know if I could ever make the Egg, which by now I'd realized was a video recorder/player of sorts, work again. I couldn't understand what my father was saying! Didn't he realize that!? Was he so smart that he'd built a space ship to carry me across time and space, but forgotten that I wouldn't speak our language!?

I desperately searched for something to hold on to. Something I could carry back with me into the real world when all this was over.

As if in answer to my prayers, my father pushed a button and up popped an image of a globe, with continents I had never seen before. There was a set of symbols hanging above the world. My father spoke one word, "Krypton." The symbols lit up.

He pushed another button, and the planet shrank. I realized that the view was simply shifting further back. Into view came a giant Red Sun. I could tell somehow that this star was old, and dying. The camera pulled further back to reveal a map of stars leaden with numbers and symbols. Coordinates. The camera zoomed in on a different section of the map, finally closing in on a world I did recognize. It was Earth.

The maps disappeared. I stood before my parents, and they stared at me. My father said one last phrase and turned to head up the stairs. As my mother moved closer to the camera, I could see she held something in her arms. A baby. Me.

She looked into the camera and, with tears in her eyes, said to me in an alien language words that could only mean, "I love you."

She too walked away, up the stairs and towards the ship, beside which stood my father. The vision began to fade and I awoke in my bedroom. Back on Earth and 13 again.

As I stared at the Egg, the word returned to me. Krypton. The name of my home planet. I was from the Planet Krypton. I was a Kryptonian.

The name of my home was Krypton.

This was my 13th birthday. I now knew the name of my home. What a birthday gift!

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S-Shield's Notes

Thanks for reading. I wrote this some time ago. So it's not in a style that I would write in today, but I just recently found it again and thought that I should post it and see if anyone likes it. Please continue on to chapter 2.


	2. Fantasy World

**Fantasy World**

Krypton is dead.

It's dead, and yet I can still see it there, hanging in the sky, like a pearl on a string.

The star-chart my birth father, Jor-El, showed me provided all the clues I needed to find Krypton's position in the sky.

It was tricky at first. To start with, I could only work at night when the stars were out. But after finally locating the proper cluster, I began to focus my telescopic vision on that spot day and night, searching for that ancient red sun.

It was there, alright. But Krypton wasn't

At first, I thought I must just have the wrong star. But no others matched the coordinates. I panicked, and did something kind of stupid.

I flew into space to get a better look.

Now, just so you know, that's not something I normally do. And even though I have the power to go anywhere on the planet, I can count the number of times I've left the state on one hand. And half of those were with my parents. So when I say that I flew into space without telling my Ma and Pa, I want you to know that it was a big deal, even for me. I suppose the closest analogy would be if, at 13, you borrowed the family car and drove to Las Vegas.

But I didn't even think about it. I just knew I needed a better view. So I kept flying higher and higher. I can see now that I might have been a little obsessive. That might also explain why I kept all this from my parents.

Let me tell you something, Space is Cold. Capital "Space," capital "Cold."

Plus, I had to hold my breath the whole time. So I was under a bit of a time limit. If the cold didn't get me, the lack of air would.

I quickly found my Red Star and looked as hard as I could. I looked every way I knew how to look.

Telescopic vision. X-Ray vision. Infrared vision. Radio wave vision. I think I even hit 4-D vision for a minute there.

I didn't care. I opened my eyes to everything, never blinking. I searched the entire electromagnetic spectrum and a few more they don't have names for yet.

Space isn't black. It's just that people can't see well enough or far enough on their own to make any sense of it.

Well, I can.

I saw the entire universe that day. I _saw_ the music of the spheres and opened my ears to listen. I heard planets sing and star-winds howl.

It was Beauty in a way I can never describe.

And there, among the cacophony of light and sound and time itself, it was, a little silver and green dot, hidden in the gravity "shadow" of a massive and most ancient red star.

Krypton. My birthplace.

I could have stared at it for hours.

Unfortunately, the combination of sensory overload, oxygen deprivation, and pure Cold caused me to pass out.

And so I fell to Earth for the second time in my life.

I woke up before I landed in the ocean and caused a tsunami or something. There was some stuff on the news later about a mysterious shooting star, even a few pictures from satellites. Luckily, I was too engulfed in flames to be seen. Especially since, thanks to the harsh effects of the trip on my clothes, I was naked.

I'm going to need to find some sturdier clothing if I plan to keep up this type of activity.

But there it was, and still is, in a way. Krypton. I could see it any time I wanted. But it was strange; the light itself was off somehow, it was "rootless." It wavered, almost like a mirage.

I know it takes time for even light to travel through space, and so what I'm actually looking at is Krypton from many decades ago, maybe even centuries. I knew all this then, too. But still…

I didn't tell my parents. Not then, anyway. I guess I was just afraid that they would be upset if I was looking into my real heritage. Like I was saying they weren't good enough, or something. I've heard that a lot of orphans have this same fear.

And also, I wasn't ready to talk about it yet. Talking about it would make it real, would make it "not mine," anymore. I just wasn't ready for other people's opinions on the subject, even if they were my two favorite people in the universe.

So I stayed quiet.

I played with the Egg a few more times, watching my real mother and father. I mean my birth mother and father. But after a while, I stopped. I was afraid that I would wear out the power source if I kept using it. And it's not like I could go out and buy new batteries.

And again, super memory. I was able to practically replay the message any time I wanted in my own head. And after the novelty wore off, I began dissecting the message. Specifically the language.

When my father spoke, the subtitles at the bottom of the image lit up each word. That's how I learned the name of the planet was Krypton. My father literally pointed to a picture of our world and said "Krypton."

It was in this same manner that I learned his name was Jor-El, and that my mother's was Lara. Those are just the transliteration of the sound they made. Say it out loud and that's what it sounded like.

My name is Kal-El.

I began to wonder what else would "light up" given the proper voice commands.

Turning my attention to the flat-screen tablet that was sent along with the Egg, I started to consider the possibility that, since there were no buttons to work, it might be voice-activated.

Not sure what would happen, I carried it into an empty field, far away from our house. Holding it at arms length, I took a deep breath and spoke one word.

"Krypton."

There was a slight hum as I felt the device power-up in my hands. Though it must have taken only a second for it to boot up, it felt like my heart stopped beating for a hundred years.

On the screen appeared, what else, but an image of the planet Krypton itself. Exactly how it looked in my father's diagram.

I reached down and touched the surface of the screen. Suddenly, the picture zoomed in on the area of land I had apparently "specified."

I was a mountain range comprised of what appeared to be crystal or jewel. Jewel Mountains. My finger moved along the screen and another area came into focus, depicting a jungle populated entirely with scarlet foliage. And even further up, there was a volcano spewing a substance that resembled molten gold.

Krypton.

It was strange. This world was so like my own. Earth, I mean. But it was like someone had given a child a coloring book of nature and let them use the wrong crayons. Even the sky, with its red sun, was unique. Instead of blue, it was a soft orange color.

I was like a world locked in an eternal sunset.

The ground itself looked fairly sparse. And not just in one place, but everywhere. Like a desert or something. It must have been a harsh landscape. But I guess that makes sense. My people and I must be so strong because the environment is so unforgiving. Evolution and survival of the fittest and all that.

But still, heat vision? I don't remember reading about that in Darwin's book.

Growing anxious, I moved the cursor around in a wide arc, trying to land on a city or habitation of any kind.

I found several. All clustered together in one corner of the main continent. I counted at least six. One seemed to be built on a city-plan resembling a star shape. Another was underwater. One had a strange feature where if you double tapped on the city, and the image was replaced with a giant crater with smooth edges. Like someone or something had just scooped the whole city up out of the ground.

But there was this one. One truly magnificent city, that seemed to combine aspects of all the others I saw. It was like ancient Rome mixed with Buck Rogers. Nothing but spires and turrets and skyscrapers, it was detailed throughout with the most remarkable crystalline structures that seemed draw power from the sun itself.

The closest thing I can compare it to in scope would be pictures I've seen of Metropolis from the 1920's. Back when they still called it the City of Tomorrow. I didn't know the name of this great city, but I couldn't help myself but call it Kryptonopolis.

Does that sound silly?

I spent days exploring Krypton and its wonders. Islands and canyons and lakes. There were even times when I could call up images of the life forms indigenous to the area. Some looked like dinosaurs, while others looked like monsters from Greek mythology. I couldn't imagine living in such a world.

Of course, I'm sure if I had, these things would seem commonplace to me. And in that instance, Earth would be the bizarre alien world. It was an interesting revelation. Like when you see a British actor doing an American accent for the first time and you think "How can you do an American accent? We don't have one, we talk normal." And then you realize that everyone thinks they talk normal and that everyone else talks funny.

It was days before I considered saying the name "Jor-El" at the book.

Jor-El, my father. It appears he was quite a man.

While I couldn't read any of the accompanying text, there was a multitude of images about him. Going back to even when he was a child, he was accepting awards, giving speeches, and working in a laboratory. I figure he must have been a scientist, and a good one at that.

A prodigy on a planet of geniuses. I was pretty proud.

My mother was in some of the pictures as well, standing by his side. They must have married young. I touched an image of her once and was shown many others of her. Not as many as my father, but still.

Lara must have been smart as well. She was usually depicted around machines that resembled my space ship. I wonder if Kryptonians had astronauts. They must have, given how advanced they were.

But, I then wondered, why didn't they just fly into space on their own, like I had done? The thought bothered me for a while, until I remember how long my trip into space had lasted, so maybe it just made more sense for even us Kryptonians to fly around in space ships.

I must say, I was having a pretty good time in my new fantasy world. I still hadn't told Ma and Pa. And I was spending more and more time thinking about Krypton.

Why had my parents sent me away? This was my main concern.

I mean, given my parent's love of science and rocket ships, I thought for a minute I might have been an experiment gone wrong. Like they sent me up to be the first baby in space, and I just kept going. But then, why the sorrowful goodbye message? Why place a text book of Kryptonian history in my ship?

That sounded more like those probes they send into space with music, pictures of humans and maps of our solar system. Was I some ambassador?

But given the mood of both my parents in the video, I had to assume they were sending me away for my own good. Like they didn't want to, but circumstances didn't leave them with too many options.

But what could be so bad that they would send me to another freaking planet?

In the end, just like in the beginning, it would be left up to my father to tell me the truth about Krypton.

One day, while looking through data about Jor-El, I found this video of him addressing a large group of older men. Like a council of elders or something.

He was making an impassioned speech. Clearly, my father was upset about something. Then he motioned to the large viewing screen behind him. On it appeared reams of numbers and hard data. It was all meaningless to me, until the Jor-El's presentation switched to a computer model of the planet Krypton literally cracking at the seams, blowing up like some great big bomb.

I could tell the people in the audience were having the exact same reaction I was. Stunned disbelief. A few stood up and began yelling at my father, shouting accusations.

Jor-El ignored them and continued with his address. On the screen came an image of my rocket ship. Only this one made mine look like a child's toy. Jor-El seemed to be telling the people that they needed to escape whatever was coming by building giant space Arks and fleeing the planet.

From there, things got ugly. A very wise and distinguished looking gentleman took the podium from my father and began to address the crowd. From the look on my father's face and the way everyone settled down, it was clear that this man was calling my father's theories into question, at best. At worst, he was calling Jor-El a fool.

There was more after that, much more. And I would view it all in the coming weeks. But right then, my stomach just couldn't take it. I left the book where I was and lifted myself into the cool air.

I flew higher and high, but even in my grief I was careful not to leave Earth's atmosphere. I gazed up at the universe, searching first for the ancient red star, and then for my silver and green pearl beside it.

I knew now why the image had been so hard to find, and why it wavered so, like a mirage on the wind. Krypton was no more.

Krypton was dead.

Well, it was official. I was alone in the universe. The last son of Krypton. I wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. Even though this was the most unreal situation I had ever heard of, I could help but think "Typical."

I stayed up there for a while, gazing at the stars. But then, after a while, something changed. After a while, I didn't feel so alone anymore. The universe was teeming with life, I'd seen it. Not just Earth, but everywhere. We're all here, together, in this universe.

And maybe, just maybe, I wasn't so different. I mean, sure I was from another planet, but aren't we all? Was being born on the planet Krypton really so different than being born in Germany or Brazil? From being born in Florida or Texas? Every place on Earth is different, and yet the same. I had the strangest feeling just then that that might hold true wherever you go in the universe.

So maybe I wasn't alone after all.

I told Ma and Pa.

Everything. Even the stuff I knew they'd be mad about. I showed them the book. I didn't show them the Egg, because I'm not sure it would even work for them. But really, I just wanted to keep that for myself. Besides, there were plenty of picture of Jor-El and Lara in the book for them to see.

I was so afraid that they would be sad or angry about everything. I guess I forgot that they are the two best people in the universe. They were so happy for me. They spent hours asking to see more and more of Krypton and my family. They asked questions that I hadn't even thought of, like if I was Kal-El, and my father was Jor-El, did that mean that El was our family name?

I tried it, and besides this strange and beautiful crest that looked like an infinity symbol trapped inside a red diamond, there was a whole section on the House of El, my distinguished ancestors.

But now I only spend the weekends looking at the book. I try to stay as grounded as can. I'll take it out to the field, under that old tree that was struck by lightning that time and look through the images and try to make up names for what I see, like Atomic City, Meteor Valley and the Arctic Fortress.

I may not have known my parents, and my home world might be long gone. But Jor-El and Lara loved me enough to let me go, to send me out into the world or the universe to find my own way. To have my own chance at life.

A life that I can use to help others. That's what I'm here for, I'm sure of it now. If it wasn't their plan, I think it was somebody's. To use my powers and abilities to help anyone who needs it.

I gazed into the universe and saw a world that died long ago. Much more than that, I saw worlds that still live. And I just can't let that go.

I touched infinity and infinity touched me back. I was filled with a sense of love and appreciation for all living things. Especially for the little blue-green world that has provided me safe harbor for all these years. And for the kindly couple that did the same.

No, I'm not alone. The universe has protected me all these years, and I think it's about time I did the same for it.

Now I just need to find some sturdier clothes.

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S-Shield's notes

Thanks for reading. I've always wanted to finish this story up. For anyone interested, the main thing I wanted to write about was my idea that those "silly" names for the places and cities of Krypton in the Silver Age were actually what Clark called them as a kid, before he could speak Kryptonese. As you can see, things kind of got away from me on that front.

I hope you enjoyed this. I've got a few ideas for similar stories set later in the life of this Clark Kent, so I hope to get around to those some day as well.

I just love Superman and Clark. And I wanted to share my view of them, one that was informed by every era and version of the characters.

Please, let me know what you think with a review.


	3. Eyes Wide Open

**Eyes Wide Open**

Not a lot escapes my vision. But sometimes I can be so blind.

Now, that's a hard thing for a guy with ten different kinds of super-sight to admit, but it's the truth.

I can see everything except what goes on inside people's hearts.

This all started the day Lex Luthor returned to Smallville.

Coincidentally, that was also the same day I came home myself, having just completed my freshmen year at the University of Metropolis. Go Bulldogs!

Ma was really excited to see me since, even though it only takes a minute for me to travel between Smallville and Metropolis, I hadn't really been back to see her in a while. She understands, she always understands. Plus, she's busy running the Smallville General Store.

I just wanted to get a feel for living on my own, in the big city. Make some new friends, like Ducky Ginsberg and T.J. White. Meet some new girls, like Lori Lemaris.

Lori...

I can't get started on that, or I'll be in an even worse mood.

The point is that I just wanted a chance to be normal. Or to pretend to be normal anyway. And coming back to Smallville, with all its memories, good and bad, would have undone a lot of that.

I miss Pa.

However, the big city does afford me many opportunities to shed my "geek chic" exterior and stretch my legs running around town, literally. It seems like someone is always robbing a bank in Metropolis. Or trying to blow one up.

I don't fly in the city. It's the one thing I miss. Whenever trouble pops up, I stick to running, occasionally I'll leap. I just feel like I'd be a bigger target if I spent all day in the sky. Especially after people started noticing, like they always do. They're calling me the mysterious "Red-Blue Blur." Luckily no one has made the connection between the Blur and the "Midwestern Superboy."

I've always been grateful that I was never too closely associated with Smallville in my other life. There towards the end of high school I made a conscious effort to move outside my comfort zone, helping people in other states and not just in my own backyard. Can you imagine if both Superboy and Clark Kent came from Smallville AND moved to Metropolis at the same time? That would be too much.

That said, however, both Pete and Lana know.

I know they know, but they don't know I know they know. Like I said, not a lot escapes my vision.

Pete figured it out way back, but never told me. He was actually pretty helpful, covering my backside when my disappearances got to be too conspicuous. Which was a huge help when Lana finally caught on. I guess I saved her life once too often. After a while I began to wonder if she wasn't deliberately throwing herself into danger just so she could catch me saving her. It was a little annoying, but I can't say I didn't enjoy the attention.

So Lana knew, but she could never prove it. And Pete knew, but he never told anyone, including me. So it seemed like everyone I cared about in Smallville knew what I could do.

Ironically, the only person to never figure it out was Lex Luthor, the smartest guy I've ever met and the only person who tried harder than Lana to uncover the mystery of Superboy. Fate's a funny thing, sometimes.

My friendship with Lex was a tragedy from the start.

Lex and I had initially bonded over our shared sense of isolation. Even though his mother was born in Smallville, he was from the big city, I was from another planet. He was smarter than everyone around him. I had powers and abilities far beyond those of other men. We both knew that there was a fine line between being special and being strange in the eyes of others. We accepted each other.

But even with that, there was a darkness to Lex that never sat right with me. The way he would talk about the people of Smallville sometimes, like they were ants compared to him, it disturbed me.

Even with all my powers, I never felt like I was better than anyone. I saw my abilities as belonging to the world, and I had a duty to share them with whoever needed help. I tried to convince Lex to see his intelligence in the same light. It never took.

So when Lana started spending a lot of time with him, joining his crusade in the hopes that it would lead her to Superboy, I was worried. Lex was a powder keg and I just prayed that Lana didn't get caught in the blast.

Poor Lex, I don't think anyone ever understood him. Not Lana. Not even me.

And I've been lucky. Since our time together, I've discovered all about my heritage and who I am. I've even met others with powers like mine. Mon-El and Krypto.

And then there's the Ring.

It sits on my finger, hard to see sometimes. Like it's behind some kind of perception filter, meant to keep it hidden me. But like I said, there's not a lot that escapes my eyes. A little golden ring, engraved with a single "L" and a star. Whenever I try to look at it too hard, something clicks in my brain, telling me to stop. I get this sense, like the kind you get when a pretty girl smiles at you, and I can almost hear her asking me to please keep my promise to not unlock the ring's secrets.

I trust her. But for some reason, the ring means something to me. A sense of companionship, like the kind I felt around Mon-El before he left, or around Krypto.

My point is that I don't think Lex has ever felt that way.

Which makes what I did to him all the more painful to bear.

When Lex left Smallville, it was amid scandal. The explosion at his house went unexplained, but many people thought Lex was trying to build a bomb. He seemed like the type. Isolated, brooding teenage loner. We've all seen how that story can end.

But apparently the military didn't care. They got wind of the caliber of Lex's inventions, and they wanted him on their payroll. So they moved Lex and his mother Lilian out and pretty much salted the earth where the old Luthor house had stood. Pete says that kids think the property is haunted.

I looked the place over with my x-ray vision after the event, and I never saw anything dangerous in the wreckage. Just some old pieces of machinery, some of the lead shielding blocking my sight.

So it was something of a surprise when Lex returned to that very spot, almost appearing out of nowhere all alone without his military escort, saying that he had come to claim something that belonged to him.

I was pretty worried what that something might be. But I had a pretty good guess what Lex was after. The device that had caused the explosion in the first place.

The Phantom Zone Projector.

A dangerous piece of technology that must have been sent with me in my rocket ship from Krypton. Somehow it got separated and lost. Lex told me that voices had led him out into the woods one night to find it. My guess is that the voices belonged to the inhabitants of the Phantom Zone. Krypton's worst and most violent criminals. According to my text book on Kryptonian history, the death penalty didn't exist on Krypton, so their criminals were exiled to a place that is untranslatable to me. Lex called it the Phantom Zone, and I can't argue that it's not a fitting name.

How Lex managed to deduce the device's purpose and actually reconstruct it I'll never know. The book says that sometimes people could hear the voices of the Zone's prisoners whispering to them in the night. But something bad happened that night, and afterward I took possession of the Projector and hid it on the farm. I've only used it once since then.

But before heading off the college, I took all the wild artifacts and weapons I had accumulated over the years off the farm and hid them away up north in the frozen Arctic, under a mountain I hollowed out.

So if that was what Lex was looking for, I knew he wouldn't find it.

But Lex was determined, like always. Although he had come alone, he brought with him all kinds of hi-tech devices. Some looked to be his own invention and others looked to be stolen from the military. He dug through the earth, uncovering item after item, tossing each aside disgusted.

Lana didn't want anything to do with Lex, and Pete didn't blame her. He never came out and said it, but several times he commented to me that "someone" should do something to stop Lex before he blew up half of Smallville again.

I tried talking with him, like always. But he just ignored me. I think everyone in Smallville was invisible to him by this point.

I began to get paranoid. Even though I had taken a thorough look before, now I couldn't help but think that perhaps something was hidden in one of the lead containers. Something dangerous, something powerful. I just prayed it wasn't more Kryptonite. Lex can trip and find pieces of that stuff in the dirt.

So I did something drastic. I know, whenever I do, something terrible happens. But I let Lex and his weird obsessions slide once before and regretted it. I didn't want to take the chance.

So one night, while Lex was asleep in his car, I hovered over the site and using my telescopic and x-ray visions, I blasted everything under the ground with heat vision. Turning it all to chunks of rock.

The next morning, I found Lex standing over one of the smoking craters. He almost chuckled when he saw me approach. Pointing to the holes in the ground, he smiled and said "Tell Lana. Superboy's been here."

Lex always believed that Superboy was real, and that he went out of his way to ruin Lex's inventions. While it was true this time, I've often wondered how many things have gone wrong in Lex's life since he left Smallville that he still blamed on Superboy.

It was a locket.

That's what Lex was looking for. It belonged to his mother, and she kept it in a small fire-proof security safe in the house that was lost in the explosion all those years ago. It was very precious to her. Lex told me that she had passed away the previous week, and he just wanted something to remember her by.

Yeah.

I looked so hard, but all I could find were the chunks of metal I had created with my damn eyes. Lex left Smallville empty handed.

Now, maybe to you that doesn't sound like that big a deal. But you have to understand, I've lost parents before. My Pa had died not too long before that, and of course, I had lost an entire planet along with my birth parents.

I was keenly aware of the pain I had caused Lex. I let my suspicion get the best of me. I went around in circles for days, feeling guilty, then being angry at Lex for being so secretive in the first place, but then remembering that I was so willing to believe the worst about him. It went on and on.

Eventually I realized that, even though I can see and hear everything, I don't always understand. I don't really know people. I'm too naive. And that naivety combined with my kind of power is dangerous.

I'm taking some time off from school. I know, it may sound drastic, but it's not. It's something I had considered for a while, take some time and travel. See more of the real world. Meet people. It was something that Pa always thought I should do. Ma wanted me to get my education first.

I have memorized every book I've ever read, but there are some things they just don't teach in schools. Besides, it'll still be there when I get back.

I told Lana and Pete my secret. The whole of it, Krypton and everything. I didn't want to keep secrets like Lex. I told them separately. Pete out in the barn and Lana up on a hill. Pete shook my hand, Lana kissed me.

Ma understood. She always understands.

Before I left, I searched every house in Smallville, and the public records at the Library. I found these old photos of Lex's mother, from when she was about our age. I tracked Lex to down to the hotel he was staying at between here and wherever he was heading. I left them in his car, inside an envelope that says "From Smallville." I certainly don't deserve any credit or kudos. I don't think it makes up for what I did. But hopefully it'll ease some of Lex's pain. I know how much good the pictures of my parents have done me.

I'm blind, and I can admit that. But my eyes see a little better now. I suppose that's a start.

I've spent the last 18 years learning how to use my powers, but now I think it'll take a few more for me to learn how I SHOULD use them.

Besides, traveling across America, maybe even outside of it, life on the road should be interesting. If nothing else, it should teach me a few things you can't learn in books. Like how to truly listen, and see into people's hearts.

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S-Shield's notes

Again, attempting to combine several different versions of history into one whole.

I chronicled Lex's time in Smallville in my short story, "Lex Luthor: Tall Tales." So it would probably help to read that as well. I tried to make it so that you could read this without having read that. I hope I succeeded.

I figured Clark needed a good reason for leaving Smallville to travel the world, but I didn't want it to be something mega drastic, like his dad dying, because it would seem like he was abandoning Martha.

I do like the idea of Pa dying while Clark is still a young man. I think that's an important step for him to realize that there are some things even his great power can't stop, and old age is one. I didn't want to rehash the story of Pa's death, since it's been done to perfection elsewhere, including Superman the Movie and All-Star Superman issue 6.

Also, the idea of combining both pre-crisis and post by having Lana AND Pete know Clark's secret came from All-Star 6.

Thanks for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it.


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